


The First Born

by God_of_Death



Category: X-Men (Alternate Universe), X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-04-28
Updated: 2017-04-28
Packaged: 2018-10-25 03:11:33
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 9,835
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10755534
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/God_of_Death/pseuds/God_of_Death
Summary: Notes: It was a long time ago.Summary: Logan was promised to marry the first born child of a King he had saved years ago.Disclaimer: Logan and Remy are the properties of Marvel Comics and 20th Century Fox productions. They are in no way related to myself at all other than fandom interest. No buying or selling of Logan and Remy has taken place. This is just for pure entertainment.





	1. Chapter 1

It was a long and boring coach ride from Shereborne to Sussex. The coach pulled up to the gates at the latest of hours and opened the door for the passenger in the long black cloak and hood to get out and walk to the door. Dusting off the material, the passenger waited for the driver to knock on the door before payment.

 

The driver was a silent man, greying and wrinkling much too fast in age. He was short and very scrawny but held his own in leading the four mighty horses, let alone carrying two heavy trunks full of clothes, shoes and personal assessment for his only passenger. He waited until the door was opened and a man in flowing red, yellow and purple robes ushered them in. Dragging the trunks carelessly behind him, even though he was specifically told to be careful with them, he walked with a limp as he followed his fare inside. The great hall they stood in was beyond extravagant in size and beauty. Tall stone pillars marked every three wide and shiny marble squares on the floor. Drapes flowed with breezes from tall windows, and the ceiling itself seemed as tall as the sky. Lanterns and torches brightened each dark corner and flickered as the breezes passed by.

 

"Fantastic, fantastic, you are here at last, my dear. Come, come in and I shall show you to your room." A taller, thin man came out from the left, behind a long shimmering curtain to meet his cloaked guest. Feltebeirn was a man of moderate age and had taken most of the chores all too seriously. The driver was paid and waved away as Feltebeirn clasped his hands together and smiled beamingly at the figure in the cloak and hood, whom hadn't moved to removed it. "You must be exhausted after your long journey. Please, come in and rest in your new home, child."

 

A long and winding staircase with a slow, elegant rise was spread out in front of them and seemed more work than it let on. Feltebeirn went first, followed by the cloaked figure, and four commonly but clean servants to follow them. Taking it upon himself to spill out various facts about the castle, Feltebeirn was oblivious to the small voice behind him asking where the Lord of the castle was. Instead, he babbled on about the stones being carried one by one, over from New Foundland more than 100 years prior.

 

Their footstpes in the halls echoed and finally stopped as Feltebeirn came to a stop before two great mahogany wood doors with brilliant gold trim on the designs that curled around the middle. "Here, my child, is your new quarters. My servant girls and cooks have done their best in filling your room with all the comforts of Shereborne. The finest silks in all of England line your bed while only the softest of furs line your floors." He opened the doors and stepped to the right so that his guest may enter the room. "The finest oils have been selected for your bath and private enjoyment." With a wave of his hand he silently directed the trunks be placed off to the right and the servants to hastily leave as he finished his conversation with the guest. "Tell me, child. Do you wish a bath before your retire? My lord is gone to bed but I will ring the maids to cleanse you, if you wish." With hands still clasped together, Feltebeirn stared at the back of the black cloak but brightened as their hands were raised and the hood lowered.

 

The guest hadn't moved from staring at the rather large bed of pillows and silks, to the left of them. Reaching up and pulling the long tresses of auburn out from under the cloak, they turned around to ask again the same question they had repeated three times. "When do I see the Lord?"

 

Feltebeirn's eyes widened and his jaw dropped open. He was speechless for a moment until he regained his composure and blinked several times to get a clear view of the person before him. "Good heavens," he exclaimed before the shock had worn off. "I'm terribly sorry. Are you not the first born child of King Jean-Luc?" He had said it as if hoping he was right and the coachman made a mistake.

 

"Yes. Prince Remy." The young, flawless man smiled and watched as the elder man looked him up and down while walking around him in a circle. "Somethin the matter?"

 

Feltebeirn smiled. "Slightly. You see, you're a-- a-- a boy. And tomorrow, the Lord-- oh dear. The Lord will be furious when he finds out." Waving his hands in the air and patting Remy's left shoulder, the man shook his head and turned to walk Remy back to the doors. "We've got to get you out of here. This is no place for you. Tomorrow, the Lord expects to see you for breakfast. And when he finds out that you're a--"

 

"Prince." Remy stopped and shook the man's hands off of his cloak.

 

"Yes. Yes. Terribly sorry, your highness. But, you see, you cannot stay here."

 

Remy pursed his lips, controlling his annoyance at the mishap. "Where am I ta go? You've sent the coach away." He replied calmly even though his fading patience was quickly evaporating. "What is this all about? T'ree days ago, I was placed in a carriage of the most unpleasant nature, I arrive here, only ta find out that I'm not what was ordered. I demand an explanation."

 

"No no no. There is much too much to tell. There isn't enough time before the Lord wakes for his morning business." Feltebeirn had intended on waving the story away however, he changed his mind as Remy's arms folded about his chest and a thin maroon shoe tapped on the bare marble tile of the entryway. Dropping his shoulders and sighing as he glanced at the floor, the man waved Remy over to the bed and sat him down on the edge as he explained. "You see, my boy, err- sire. My Lord was called upon to save your father's kingdom from a terrible war. Your father and my Lord fought side by side, ridding the kingdom from the evil that had ensued from long before your father's birth. As return payment, my Lord asked only for the hand of their first born daughter. But, seeing as how you are here, I suspect something went afoul in your father's end of the bargain." Sighing again as his explanation had left Remy the slightest unsatisfied, he shrugged and wrung his hands in worry over how his Lord would react.

 

His hands sat very calm and still in his lap, and his eyes lay very steadily on Feltebeirn. "My mother passed away when I was born. That's why there is no daughter. Father is no' one to back out of an agreement so, he sent me in hopes that the Lord would forgive the mistake." Sullen face stared straight at Feltebeirn, sizing him and waiting for the decision to sort it all out in the morning.

 

Nodding, Feltebeirn agreed and turned away from the young face of the Prince who was tired and dusty from the long ride. "Very well, my young lord. I will fetch the maids for your bath, if you choose?" He turned back to see Remy casually nod and sigh with tired strain. "Rest well, highness. I shall call on you the hour before dawn."

 

Continued.


	2. Chapter 2

The next morning the Lord of the manor was up and eager to start his daily business. He had thrown the covers off of him and slipped out of bed to almost skip towards his wash basin, on the far side of the room. Pouring water from a crystal pitcher into a metal bowl, he quickly splashed the cool water on his face and reached to his right for the cotton towel that hung on the wall beside the small table. Candles in oil lamps were placed throughout the room as Logan didn't like dark rooms. They weren't bright but just bright enough for him to see from one side of the room to the other without squinting. The red silk breeches were cool from the hot night before and gave their coolness in tiny pieces as it touched his legs as he walked over to his wardrobe across from the large feather bed. Swinging the doors open and staring at the row upon row of clothing, he sighed as he thought about what to wear. "Come." He called as a soft knock on the door interrupted his thoughts.

 

The door opened and Feltebeirn peered inside. "Good morning, sire. How was your sleep? Well, I hope?" Clearing his throat nervously and stepping into the room, Feltebeirn shut the door behind him before turning to stand behind his master. "May I suggest the blue one, sire?" Looking over his lord's shoulder and placing his hands behind his back, the head servant rocked back and forth on his heels in a casual sort of way.

 

Logan didn't move. "Why the blue one? It makes me look like an idiot." Absently running a hand through his mussed black hair, he stared at the suit and wrinkled his nose.

 

"Ye- no, sire. I just, well- thought- actually, that your guest might approve of the color, seeing as that it's--" Feltebeirn let his eyes stray away from Logan so he hadn't seen the Lord's eyes widen as he spun around and stared at his counsel with glee. 

 

"She's here? My bride has finally come to me?"

 

Feltebeirn's eyes snapped back to his master as he tried to hide his shock of the slip of the arrival of the guest during the night. "Uh- yes, sire. The coach arrived last night. It was much too late for you to be disturbed so, I was waiting for this morn to deliver the news." He swallowed shallowly and heaved a quiet sigh as Logan had spun back around to dig for his blue suit. "Uh, sire? May I suggest a refreshing bath? Wouldn't want to make an improper impression on your guest before the wedding night, now shall we? I shall rouse your..... bride, while you are bathing and make sure everything is corrected."

 

Logan nodded as he held the curved wooden wire that held the suit in question. He paused and turned to raise an eyebrow at the man. "Corrected? Featherbrain, if my bride has been harmed in the slightest hair, heads will roll."

 

"Feltebeirn, sire." The man corrected under his breath before attempting to explain. "A slight misfortune came last night. Nothing to dawdle on, your majesty. I will see to it that it is smoothed out before your meeting. Enjoy your bath, sire." Feltebeirn bowed gracefully before turning and hurrying out of the room to have the chamber maids strike a hot bath for their Lord. "Hurry hurry. Mustn't keep his majesty waiting." Ushering the girls into a large bathing room that held an above ground bath and steam rocks that lined the walls. The bath set in the middle of the room in the shape of a giant circle. Feltebeirn watched them as they tended to the hot waters of the bath and readied soaps and towels before bowing to the side of the room and averting their eyes from the lord as he strolled in for his bath. "I shall see to company and set them awake, sire."

 

Logan grunted and nodded as he waved the man away and removed his clothing to step into the bath by the stone steps on the side. "Featherbird, I wish to escort my bride to be to breakfast on the balcony on the west side for her to see her land. I will collect her at her chambers, I want her presentable." Sitting down and leaning against the back of the bath, he added. "Bring her some roses. Red roses from the garden. And, have a special meal in her honor."

 

"Yes sire." Feltebeirn turned around slowly to face the door as he shook his head ever so slightly to himself, thinking that his lord could never get his name right. He hurried out of the room and rushed down the great hall to the door that had occupied their guest from the night prior. Knocking and stepping back, he waited for an answer of acknowledgement before he knocked again.

 

The voice from inside called to him as they had sat up and yawned and stretched. "Come."

 

"Ah, my young lord, you are awake." Feltebeirn poked his head through the door and greeted Remy with a generous smile. "Was your sleep well, sire?"

 

Remy sat there. His arms stretched above his head as the material of the white shirt was pulled almost to a tear from stretching. "Oui. The bed was comfortable." He smiled back half confused at the man bowing and coming towards him with the most uncertain of looks. "Why the rush?" Remy found himself asking as if he had forgotten all about the story of the night before.

 

Feltebeirn stopped as he stood beside Remy and waited for the young prince to crawl out of bed and get dressed. "My lord is in the bath, as we speak. His next stop is to escort his bride-to-be to the balcony for breakfast. My worry is that he will have my head on a platter, before waging an awful war on your kingdom, when he finds out that you are not the bride he requested." He smiled impatiently as Remy stood and rubbed his eyes with the back of his fists, long sleeved cuffs of his shirt obscured most of his face. Taking the time to glance at the rest of the young prince's body, he found his peek somewhat stimulating. The shirt Remy had worn to bed was long sleeved but not long enough to conceal the thin but toned thighs and calves. An eyebrow arched but he didn't say anything about it. "Forgive my rush, my young lord, but we must hurry and have you dressed and take leave before my lord--" His words were interrupted as a sound he had dreaded came from the door. "knocks." Panic struck his face before his voice caught up and squeaked as he tried to speak again. "No time. we must get you...." The counsel looked about the wide room, spotting a dressing screen, his eyes lit up with an idea. "Come my prince, behind the screen. Stay there until he leaves."

 

The knock on the door came again, this time with more thrust in the sound. 

 

"Coming sire." Feltebeirn waited for Remy to conceal himself behind the screen, on the other side of the room, by the window. Turning to rush to the door and throw both doors open for the Lord's presence, the counsel smiled and bowed low as Logan passed him and stepped into the room.

 

Finding a relatively empty but stayed in room, Logan's smile faded as he spun around and waited for Feltebeirn's explanation. He had been dressed in the blue robes with a gold and emerald trim along the edges. The blue itself was a brilliant blue and shined it's color to an almost glowing appeal. His unruly hair had been tamed to a point that was manageable and pleasant. "Where is she?" His toned hadn't been as angry as his servant predicted, instead it was more concerned than anxious. His hands held a dozen white, long-stemmed roses with a white satin cloth over the stems.

 

The counsel cleared his throat in a nervous twitch as he thought of an answer. "You see sire, the child is- well, homesick- to say the least."

 

Logan frowned and glared at his servant. "Where is she? What have you told her about me, Felttipbrain?" Panic crept into his voice, hidden under a low growl as he came closer and grabbed the man's tunic. Wide eyes stared back at him as he came nose to nose with his servant.

 

"Nothing- nothing bad, sire. I assure it was all in your favor, m'lord." He smiled nervously and let his eyes dart from Logan to the dressing screen and back very quickly as if he were afraid of what Logan would do to Remy.

 

The room had gone quiet until a movement from behind the screen caused Logan to release his counsel and turn his head to see what the sound was. "Don't be afraid, my child. Yer most welcome in my kingdom, and anything you wish will be granted." Stepping towards the screen, he took a slow breath and cursed himself at his outburst. "Was your journey so long and cruel that I may not look onto you?" Having come face to face with a white screen and hearing no more movement from the other side, Logan turned back to his counsel for assurance of his steady actions. 

 

Standing with his back to the screen and holding in his breath, Remy's body went stiff as he listened to the man's gruff sounding voice through the screen. The screen was thin enough to allow only the outline of his body but, he wondered just what kind of outline he had been projecting. He blinked but didn't move. If his gasp had given the lord notice of his presence, what might his voice give aide to?

 

Feltebeirn opened his mouth to say something but closed it again as he had to think of the proper use of his words. "Sire-, after a long journey and I'm sure an alarming night of discomforting sleep, perhaps it might be best to assume a mid day welcoming meal? Possibly a bath and a midmorning nap to ease the butterflies causing unrest in the stomach?"

 

Nodding but not verbally admitting the servant was right, Logan took a step back from the screen. "Then I will return to collect you this noon." He sighed to himself as he blinked at the outline of the person behind the screen. "I won't harm you, or try to take advantage of you in any way you are not welcoming to it. By all means, I am no monster. Please don't think of this as a prison or some horrible dream to which there is no escape, if your heart is not here, I can not ask you to stay more than your safety requires." He looked back at Feltebeirn who gave a small smile and nodded the approval of how his liege had handled the affair.

 

"Sire, perhaps it is best to take leave and carry on with your busy morning? I will make sure the child is alright." He waited patiently as Logan turned for one last look at the unmoving figure behind the screen before nodding and turning towards the doors. "I shall let you know immediately in any change of decision." Walking with Logan to the door and closing them behind him as the lord handed him the bouquet of roses and continued with his head bowed as he walked down the hallway to the grand staircase.

 

Hearing the doors close and a loud sigh of relief from Feltebeirn, Remy heaved a small sigh to himself before walking out from behind the screen. "He thinks I'm a girl!?" He was shocked to find out that the servant and chief councilman hadn't told his master of the mistake, but was rather trying his best to hide it. "I'm sure all of this mess can be cleared if I explain to him dat-"

 

"No!" Feltebeirn shouted and immediately retreated his shock and forced a calm answer. "My lord is a very proud but humbled man. He and very few others of the kingdom had taken on the task of ridding your father's land of wretched monsters. You see, when your father sought my lord's help, it was out of desperation. Years prior, my lord was cast out from his rightful heir to the thrown by one small oversight. 

 

"When he was a boy, his body went through some changes and on his 17th birthday, he was sent away from his mother and father over what he possessed. Released from his birth thrown, he set out to find his own kingdom, picking up stragglers along the way and before long, he became a good but strong willed lord. Other kingdoms had heard about his unique gifts and talents and often called upon him to be saviour to them. All you see around you are gifts to him, even this castle and court were claimed to him by the people of the keep. He never asked for payment of any kind, nor has he ever made a proposal to take a bride.

 

"The third night your very kingdom came under tyranny, your father sought out the rumors of my lord and to his astonishment, my king came and drove the invaders away. The battle was a bloody and horrible one at that but in the end, my lord was only man to be left standing. Your father, after having watched the very battle and what my lord can do, was appalled to even attempt to offer payment out of fear that it would be an insult to my lord's honor and valor. My lord gave a simple request when asked what he thought his payment should be, and humbly begged for the first born daughter's hand in marriage. To demand in any way that my lord has mistaken his request would be devastating to not only him, but our kingdom as well. Do you see? However, if he believes that his 'bride' is homesick and only wishes to return to 'her' home, that gives us time to sort out an easier payment from your father." Feltebeirn had paid close attention to Remy as he told the story. 

 

Remy sat down on the edge of the bed and sighed in thought over what had all been said and wondered why he was never informed of the real reason he was sent away. It sounded cruel to lie to Logan but, he had understood Feltebeirn's concern to ease his lord's conscience and save the man's pride. He had gone through his own changes also but, he had never been exiled from his own family because of them. "D'accord." He nodded and stared at the floor.

 

Continued.


	3. Chapter 3

By mid day, Logan was pacing nervously in the grand hall. His head was bent and his hands were placed behind his back as the back of his right hand tapped against the palm of his left. His breathing became heavy through his nose and he glanced up, every so often, to see if anyone was in the hall with him and the several chamber guards who stood in the shadows along the walls. Another turned and he came to a stop while facing the far off double doors. A moment passed before he turned to his right and stared at the first of the guards, and the one who stood closest to the door. "Fetch my feeble-minded counselor, Feltebeirn!" He had had enough of waiting and pacing when his counsel entertained his guest.

 

"Sir." Came the guard's heavy and loud voice. He was a Northerner from Yorkshire, which made his accent thick and unruly in ways of making it next to impossible to understand. A short man with long, pony-tailed fire red hair, as well as a bushy red mustache planted firmly on his round and grisly face that was offset by his deep blue eyes and his elf-like ears. Ebony armor that shined in certain light and blood red material to soften the impact of metal on skin. In his left hand he held a long spear with a gold arrowhead as a point, his only weapon when he did not carry his sword. The arrowhead, like it's owner, appeared ragged and worn but in the heat of battle, it became a mighty weapon to pierce and serrate like an opener to a can.

 

The guard's heavy footsteps rang loudly down the corridors and up narrow steps to the hall where the counselor had been most of the morning. A bare fist on it's side banged on the door to Remy's chambers. "Counselor, his majesty wishes your presence in the grand hall!" He yelled through the door and listened.

 

Inside the room, Feltebeirn was starting to panic. "Now, my young sire, do you remember everything?" Wringing his hands and taking two steps before walking back and turning again. He had been explaining his quick thinking to Remy to get out of the fix they were in, when time ran out.

 

"Oui." Remy sat calmly on the bed and watched the man pace with mild annoyance. He hadn't moved from the spot since he sat down and Feltebeirn began walking around the room and telling random idea after idea of what to do.

 

Feltebeirn stopped and smoothed back his mussed hair with his hands before swallowing and moving towards the door. "Good." He stopped again as he came to the door and turned back to give Remy one last once over before turning again to open the door. "I shall be back momentarily, sire." He inhaled and held his breath a second as he opened the door and greeted the guard with a nod before closing the door behind him and leading the armored guard back down to Logan.

 

*******

 

Logan had continued to pace the grand hall, footsteps thumping loudly on the marble tile. He was fuming until he saw the guard bringing back the head counselor. "Well, where is she?" Logan stopped his pacing and met his guard and counselor halfway. "Fingerbread, if I have to go up there and drag her down--"

 

"Calm yourself, sire. Any act of aggression might result in war." Feltebeirn spoke calmly even though he was at a loss of casual emotions. He stood still with his hands clasped in front of him, and blinked at Logan as he waited for the lord's retraction.

 

His majesty huffed and turned away to storm back to his throne. "How can I frighten her when she hasn't even seen me?" Logan stopped thirty feet from them and turned back to face Feltebeirn. "Is she ill? Contagious? Shall I have the physician see her? If the child is unwell, I will not send her back home in her fragile condition." Feeling as though he should give up and send her back, Logan placed it upon himself to right the situation as best he could before giving up completely. Wringing his hands as he grasped at ideas and glancing every now and then at his counselor, Logan was becoming quite anxious and longed for action.

 

Feltebeirn balanced his thoughts and studied his master's expression before he spoke the answer he chose. "You see, my lord, it is a delicate situation to approach. There is no reason for alarm, just yet but there has been an accident and I am on the verge of correcting the mistake so that you may resume your plans for marriage." A slight miscalculation in his words had sent Logan to tilt his head in question as he stepped forward. "No harm has come, I assure you, your majesty. The child is safe and well taken care of." He sighed in relief as Logan paused.

 

"I wish to see for myself, and meet my bride that doesn't wish to bat an eye at me." Pressing past the counselor, Logan led the way up to the guest room where Remy impatiently waited. He was followed by Feltebeirn who continuously babbled reasons of why he shouldn't go any farther but Logan ignored him and only walked faster. As he reached the top of the stairs, he had started to walk more briskly to the chamber door. Coming to a stop, he caught himself about to throw the doors open and walk in unannounced. Taking a deep, slow breath, Logan knocked on the door and listened.

 

"Sire.."

 

"Shut up." Not turning around, Logan leaned closer to the door to hear better. The doors in the palace were thicker than originally, which made Logan more happy as he hated loud noises when he was trying to sleep. Drawing himself back, he pounded on the great door before reaching for the handle and wrenching it open.

 

*******

 

Remy's eyes widened as he sat there, frozen on the bed. A pang surged a shudder out of him and was to his feet, dodging left into the cover of the dressing screen. Heart now pounding in his chest as loud footsteps made their way to him. His mouth fell open with heavy breaths while his eyes widened no shallower.

 

"Sire, your temper. Mustn't upset your guest." Feltebeirn pleaded from behind Logan.

 

The insatiable anger in the lord's composure escaped some small bit and wafted over to Remy's senses. The thudding of his heart against his rib cage worried the young prince into thinking it was able to be heard throughout the room. His eyelids felt too heavy as he blinked and stared at the far end of the room.

 

Logan's rage subsided in an unwilling attempt to calm himself before his unseen guest. "My counselor informs me that you are not well, yet you take to no bed." Hearing the heartbeat thumping behind the screen, he stared at the spot where the person stood. "I have no resentment of the stories he might have told you for I'm sure they are disdainfully true." He turned to the right, as Remy had, and started walking to the end of the screen before stopping again and speaking. "To assume I would ever put your life in jeopardy without reason might be brash, to say the least. But, for him to keep you from me, is brasher still."

 

As if hearing Remy's movements as they happened, Logan reached out and grabbed a thin, raised wrist and pulled the figure out from behind the cover. Clutching the wrist with less than bruising strength, the lord's eyes opened wide in astonishment at the body that fell to their knees and screamed in pain. He took a breath as he released the figure and stumbled back, into the arms of his counselor. "How--? Y-you are--?! No!" Moving away from the hands that held to him, and standing on his own two feet, Logan continued to stare at the slim boy on his knees.

 

Bent on his knees and clutching his throbbing wrist, the young prince stared upward in shock and horror of the man who proclaimed to be lord. Eyes no less wide than his host's, he remained on the floor, thinking that any movement might establish wrath against him or his kin.

 

"Sire, as I've tried mercifully to explain.... this is Prince Remy of Shereborne. You see, his mother had only one child before passing from us. Not wanting to back out on his promise, King Jean-Luc sent the boy here to hopefully straighten everything out." Feltebeirn smiled uneasily as the cloak of untruth had finally been lifted. Erasing the smile as he took a closer look at Logan's face, he stepped closer to the man. "My lord....?"

 

A deep sigh heaved in Logan's lungs, heavy with embarrassment and strain of offering for something that would never come. "Foolishness." A whisper that passed his lips in a mournful speech and forced his chest to tighten as the realization overcame him. "Your attempts to hide this unfortunate dilemma only served to bring to light what can never occur. Feltebeirn, have the young prince packed and send back my sympathies to his father of my idiocies." He spoke to the counselour without turning to see him but, his eyes remained focused on the boy who knelt before him. "Forgive an old, foolish man, young liege. I will have the carriage awaiting you in the dawn's light. My counselor will see to your food and drink this night." Not another word was uttered as Logan retreated from the room and made his way silently to his own chambers where he spent the remainder of the evening and night.

 

Remy blinked, shocked at the out-pour of emotions that ran off his host like wailing tears. He stood and trembled in the wake as Feltebeirn and the guard stood next to him. "Had hoped for somethin different but, never imagined my presence would do that. Will the lord be all right?" Staring at the open door, Remy brushed himself off at the arms.

 

"My lord? I imagine he is by all means in shock of your appearance but, yes. My lord will find his wounds will heal in time." His voice was soft and compassionate to his absent lord's feelings, nonetheless, he was eager to see Remy heading back to Shereborne for Logan to start moving on.

 

Continued.


	4. Chapter 4

Remy knocked on his door at three quarters past the next hour. The words tumbled over in his head on what he wanted to say to make things right. He knocked again when no answer came and harder still again after that. "Sire, I wish to speak with you." His fist pounded again on the large oak door. "Father sent me here ta talk wit' you about why dere is no bride for you!" When still no answer came, he decided to tell his side through the door, feeling Logan stand just on the other side listening. "My mother died! Was too traumatic for her dat she had me so, she died an' left us alone! Father sent me to explain but everytime I try, I-" Stepping back as the door swung open into the room and Logan stood before him, waiting for the rest of the explanation.

 

"You got scared and held your tongue so I could make a fool of myself." Logan was angry but his rage was contained to only himself as he blamed only him for the fiasco. He had changed from his robes into a plain white tunic and black pants. Crossing his arms and forcing himself to remain as calm as possible in front of the young Prince as if it were him who led the confusion.

 

Blinking blankly and stepping forward, as a sigh was barely audible before Remy could speak. "Last night I arrived and I had asked where you were. I was informed dat you were sleepin and we could resolve this in de morning. When dawn came, I was rushed about to hide from you an' after witnessin your temper...." He stopped as Logan sighed heavily and hung his head. "This was not supposed to be a witch hunt."

 

Logan hadn't wanted to hear anymore. Turning and walking away from the young lord while shaking his head and mumbling, Logan tried to be as hushed as he could. "The carriage will be here in the morning to take you back. I will not keep you here if you have no wish to stay." He sat down on the corner of the bed, his room was darkened as he had pulled the shades to sulk.

 

"If you send me back so soon, my father will think dat this is war." Remy still stood at the doorway and raised his voice for Logan to understand him clearly. He didn't dare enter the room as knowing a small fraction of Logan's anger, he thought it best to wait until invited. "If you an' my father are friends and comrades, you will wait to send me back with dis news."

 

"All right, you can stay. I'll let Featherbrain know my decision before nightfall." Not liking it but agreeing for the sake of an old friendship, Logan waved the Prince away. "Feel free to wander about the castle with my chief of guards. He'll show you everything you could want to see."

 

Remy nodded and shrugged. "Thought perhaps de lord would show me around...?" Biting his lip, he gave a hopeful look to the darkened lord of the kingdom. "Perhaps we can talk about you an' my father? Please?"

 

The ball was now fully in Logan's court and he was reluctant to observe it. He sighed and stared curiously at the young man in the doorway.

 

***********

 

As they strolled through the courtyard, Logan pointed out several spots that Remy might enjoy on his visit. "There is a pond just beyond the clearing, outside of the keep. You are welcome to swim, walk, ride my best horses along those roads, as well as wander my courtyards. The village people are pleasant and loyal." Logan had placed his hands behind him, careful not to touch the young lord as he had before. He took Remy through the small village and nodded and smiled at each of the villagers as they bowed and smiled up at them.

 

"This is so different from our kingdom. Father would have an escort as I walked; at least four guards." Remy smiled at one lady, who in turn, smiled back and curtsied low as he passed.

 

Logan looked over at him with a curious quip. "I had no idea Jean-Luc was under such restrictions." They stopped long enough for him to look over and see the sorrow in Remy's face.

 

Remy didn't look at his host right away but started to explain as he watched two children- brother and sister- run across the roadway and latch themselves onto the sides of their mother as she hung up the wash. "Father and the kingdom of Chester have been at a standstill as the young king claims to have won me in battle against the Welsh. He came to my aid as my carriage was attacked by bandits while on my way back to my kingdom. I spent de night with him and now, he is claiming to have me in his services."

 

"What service is that?" Logan raised an eyebrow.

 

Remy inhaled. "Much like what you were expecting from me, had I been a fille." He paused as the baker of the shoppe they stopped in front of peered out his door and waited for Logan to wave him forward before continuing.

 

The clothes the baker, and most of the villagers, were relatively in perfect condition. He was splattered with dusting flour and hot from the ovens but had sliced a loaf of sourdough and held the wooden tray up for them. "My lord, and sire," Eyeing Remy and bowing for both. "I have just baked this bread for you, in honor of our guest. Please, have a slice for your journey back to the palace." He was a man in his early 40s, with flour covered brown hair and walked with a limp of his right leg. Not looking at either of them but smiling as Remy and then Logan each took a small portion of the round loaf.

 

"Merci, Monsieur baker." Remy smiled and nibbled at the piece.

 

Logan thanked him as well before they continued back to the palace steps. They sat down on the mid-way stair and finished their talk as they nibbled on bread. His feeling of foolishness had started to fade away after what Remy had shared. "I will not keep you here against your will, and I make no claim to you, if you don't agree." He said it after a long silence, with time to finish their bread and stare at the sun as it began its descent into the horizon. "I am an old man, tired and lonely. Your father was kind enough to give me hope to end my solitude but now I see it is just a dream."

 

Finishing the bite in his mouth, Remy looked over at the man who sat to his right. "If I may stay longer, I would like to help end your loneliness."

 

Logan smiled. "I'm afraid it would take much more than just companionship. I need to have an heir to continue my line." Eyeing the young man next to him, he continued. "A woman is needed for more than just to be on my arm. If I die in battle and there is no heir, or he is too young yet, she must take my place on the throne and rule as I have until our son is old enough to be crowned ruling Prince. It was actually your mother's idea that my payment should be a wife. It was my idea that I picked their first born daughter."

 

"To be welcome in our family?"

 

Logan let his sigh answer for him in ways his words would only confuse. He stared at the horizon and could feel Remy's eyes washing over him but had no desire to see what judgement they held. The townspeople hurried to their homes but stopped and bowed or waved to Logan as he would wave or nod back to them, he smiled as the small children tried to mimic their parent's actions but ended up hiding their stumbles. 

 

A soft smile quirked on Remy's lips as he watched the people wave and smile and then watched Logan's reaction. When they were all in their homes, his mind wandered over thoughts of staying here as this life was so much different than his kingdom. People were friendlier and Logan- himself- was just the opposite as Feltebeirn had imaged. On a dare with himself, he slipped his hand into Logan's as it rested on the space of stone between them.

 

Logan turned immediately to stare at their hands and then to the warm smile Remy wore. "You'd stay?"

 

"I'll stay but I refuse to be a woman." Squeezing Logan's hand lightly and turning back to the sunset of golden oranges and pale blues and yellows with a hint of soft violets, he inhaled and his body tingled as Logan returned the gesture.

 

*********

 

They had talked and laughed all through dinner, breaking protocols but enjoying themselves and each other's company. Logan sat at the head of the table while Remy took the seat to the left. They feasted on rum-marinated pig and duck with plenty of fruits and breads from the baker's shoppe. Glasses remained full until the wine ran out and both were too full to replenish it.

 

At the end of the meal, Feltebeirn stood at the far end of the long oak table and awaited instructions. He smiled to himself with seeing Logan wearing a constant smile and laugh but also seemed confused at who he was laughing and carrying on with. His attention was straight as they both stood up and bid each other good night. As the young prince paced himself toward the counselor, he turned. "Shall I escort you to your chambers, young sire?"

 

Remy smiled and shook his head. "Non, I'll find my way. Merci." Continuing down the lit hall and up the winding marble steps, he smiled and replayed the scenes from their meal.

 

"Sire?" Feltebeirn stood patiently and watched his master stretch from sitting too long. "Sire, is the young Prince to be sent away in the morning? The coach is ready and I have seen to it that an explanation for his return is awaiting your signature."

 

Logan finished stretching and yawned as he made his way over to the counselor. "The Prince stays."

 

"Stays, sire?" Feltebeirn asked in shock but quickly nodded and agreed as Logan flashed a firm look at him. "Yes, yes, sire. Of course the young master will stay but, what about your betrothal? The young master is feminine-like yes, but-"

 

"Don't make my judgements for me, Featherbrain." Logan firmed. "The decision to stay was his, as mine is what comes next. Send a letter to his father explaining that his son will be my guest for as long as he sees fit and explain that all is righted in the adventure for a queen." He started walking toward the steps with Feltebeirn following on his heels.

 

Feltebeirn bowed and agreed in the action. "Yes sire. At once, sire." He could only wonder why the boy was staying when Logan's only goal was to have a bride and mate, not befriend a prince. His mind and thoughts crept darker as he followed his master to his chambers and helped ready the lord for bed.

 

Logan shifted down into the covers and sighed as he relaxed into the bed. "Make sure the Prince has a bath drawn and see to his comforts, if he asks. Good night, counselor."

 

"Good night sire." Feltebeirn tucked Logan in one last time before standing up. "Sire, wouldn't his father become curious as to why the Prince remains here?"

 

There wasn't an answer, only soft breathing as Logan had fallen asleep and rolled away from him.

 

Sighing, Feltebeirn left quietly and headed for Remy's chambers to fetch what the young lord needed.

 

tbc.


	5. Chapter 5

Remy lay in the bath for well over an hour and thought in-depth of what it would be like to stay in Logan's kingdom. Soapy water that made hushed slapping noises kept his mind from wandering too far and yet, it was becoming a distraction. The stone beneath him was unrelenting in him keeping distance from the bottom. He would push himself off of the bottom, with one hand between he and the stone, only to glide back down again. A deep breath in and gentle breath out as his hands wandered over his water-covered body.

His thoughts darkened on what the Lord had told him about his past with Remy's father. Logan had really expected Remy to be a young bride. And when Logan found out that Remy was not his mistress, the spark of adoration brushed aside any resentment Remy might have had for the innocent mix-up. He closed his eyes and saw Logan's staring back, letting a hand roam over places on Remy's body that the Lord had not been acquainted with yet.

A soft knock at the door had awakened him from his brooding.

"Oui?"

Logan's voice was soft but loud enough for Remy to hear the words clearly behind the unopened door. "If you are decent, and wish to walk about with me, I will gladly show you a private spot for your musings."

"Tonight?"

Logan was silent a moment. "Tomorrow, if you wish?"

Remy sat up and reached for his robe. He hurried out of the bath and over to the door, the stone flooring was cold on his bare feet. Making sure the robe was about him and discreetly concealing his intimate parts, he opened the door to come face to face with the older king. "Tonight would be fine, m'lord. I'll get dressed and we'll go, non?"

Logan blushed as he eyed the young prince in his oversized and thick bathrobe. "Sure. I'll wait outside."

"Non, please. I can use the screen." Remy smiled cleverly.

Logan stepped in and closed the door behind him. Remy had already disappeared from view and the king took his opportunity to look around the room and see what the young prince had done to make himself more comfortable. Walking over to the wash basin and polished glass, he first looked at himself in reflection and then angled his head to see the dressing screen Remy stood behind. "Are the chambers to your liking?" He had made sure his voice was loud enough to carry across the room.

"Oui. A little drafty but it's comfy." Calling back, Remy slipped his tunic on and then his shoes before rejoining the king on the other side of the screen. He smiled as Logan sat on the side of the bed and bounced as if testing the firmness of the feathers and straw. He replaced his poker face as Logan noticed him and stood up, blushing slightly. "Shall we go, my liege?"

"Certainly." Escorting Remy to the door, Logan opened it and let the young prince go first. They walked down the corridor, past Logan's chambers and through the small archway at the end that led to a hidden panel and a spiral staircase downward. "When I took over this kingdom, I spent a month walking through these corridors and passageways, just to get a feel of them." The torches on the wall had been lit already and made the small spiralway seem a bit smaller than it would have been, had there been windows.

Remy now followed Logan down the stairs and stopped abruptly as Logan had came to the bottom and tapped a certain brick in the wall, opening a portion of wall that led to another passageway and then out to a circular courtyard. Torches on either side of the doorway had been sufficient in lighting the secluded space with just enough light for them to see most of the yard and yet conceal their discreet pleasures. It was a smaller courtyard, with more shrubs of flowers of many colors than Remy could identify. The large stone and mortar sealed off any prying eyes that might invite themselves to the private outdoor room, yet let in the morning sun in the summer months. "C'est magnifique. You made this, yourself?"

Logan shook his head. "No, the previous king must have had a wife or mistress. I just kept it up for-- uh," he had started to saying something but decided not to finish and make himself look the fool of earlier. He stood by the door and watched the youth walk around the gardens, sniffing at the flowers and finally sitting down on the stone bench in the middle of the yard.

"Do you let de village in here?" Remy turned and coyly looked at Logan with a small smile.

Blushing a bit and moving over to the bench, Logan sat down beside Remy and shook his head. "Nope. Just for me,.... and you, if you wish." He silently hoped Remy would agree to keep it their secret but understood if Remy had different opinions. Noticing how the young prince admired the small garden, Logan wondered what kind of home life the boy had before being shipped away from his family. "Did uh, did yer mother have anything like this? Before she passed, I mean."

Remy's expression grew dim as he remembered his lonely childhood and his stepmother that wanted nothing to do with him. "Non. Poppa destroyed everything dat reminded him of her. He just married again and she had another boy. So, poppa sent me in hopes you'd understand. She's pregnant again but it may be awhile, if she has a fille." He had averted his eyes to look at the dark floor and didn't see Logan's reaction to his story.

"I can't wait that long, kid." Logan took a breath and let it out slowly before moving to lift Remy's chin with a thick fingertip. "I would like to have you stay with me." Steadily, he leaned over and gently kissed the Prince's lips and waited for a response in any direction. When the answer came back as a kiss, Logan was a little stunned at himself and Remy. The kiss deepened but stopped before they went too far. "We should get back inside. It's getting late."

Only nodding, Remy stood up and followed Logan back to the doorway and up the stairs. As they said good night and parted ways at Remy's door, he wanted to ask the King to stay and talk but was unsure of how to approach the matter. It wasn't good manners to keep the host from their own devices, as he had been taught throughout his childhood. Remy had been having a good time in visiting with the King and didn't want to wear out his welcome but before he could stop himself, his mouth moved and sound came out in the form of the words, "please stay, tonight."

Logan had taken only a few steps back toward his chambers when the plea struck his ears. He stopped and turned around in asking if Remy was serious. A smile quirked on his lips as he decided to accept the invitation. Though Logan was tired, it had been a long while since he had a person of next-to-equal stature to talk to. 

***********

The great wooden doors to the inner city of the kingdom swung open and received an elegant white carriage, complete with gold trim and sparkling jewels encrusted in either door. Rubies, emeralds, diamonds and sapphires spilled out their intricate patterns over each small space of door. The coach bounced and rocked from side to side over the rough cobblestone entry up to the palace steps. When the carriage stopped at the foot of the steps, one sparkling door opened and a dark cloaked figure dispersed.

A guard stood at the top of the steps and waited for the figure to reach him before relaying his orders to the man. "By order of the King, remove your hood and be recognised." The guard's voice was booming but welcoming. His eyes steadied on the hood that shadowed much of the man's face.

"No." The visitor spoke plainly from the step below. Two green, glowing eyes pierced the shadow and demanded the guard's attention. "Take me to the king."

The guard gave a quick bow and did as he was told, leading the cloaked man into the great hall and down to the end before turning right to have a second set of guards open two heavy wooden doors that kept the King's throne room. The guard had done so while making no conversation to the man's name or from whence he traveled from.

Logan had been bored and sat listening to the day's events and callings. His left leg fell dangling over the left arm of the chair and his posture slouched to the right with his right elbow holding him up. As the inner throne room door opened, Logan's changed postures to sit up and watch as the guard led a hooded man down the long marbled walk to stand at the base of the steps, before him. "Elias, whom have you brought to me?" His first instinct was not kindness, since the traveler refused to remove their hood inside and before the king. Logan forced himself back to be polite but was not about to stop his claws from exposing themselves if the traveler was an enemy.

The guard stopped at the base of the steps and bowed low to his king. "A wealthy traveler, my liege. He says-" Elias was about to finish the rest of what actually transpired when the traveler raised his hands to silence him.

"I am Danuul, from the kingdom of Chester, your majesty. I have been sent to beg your aid, sire." Thin, white hands raised more to his hood and gently pushed the heavy material off his face and letting it come to rest on his shoulders. "My kingdom has recently fallen under tyranny of a great white man-beast." His features were that of a young man, appearing to be in his thirties, with long dark hair, thin face and piercing green eyes. His mouth hid a tiny smile in nervousness. His voice was smooth and unfaltering even though, he had just barely escaped the clutches of death and demons to travel four days and five nights to find Logan.

Logan waved a hand in silent instruction for the guard to return to his post before asking Danuul about the details. "What sort of beast? Darley is three days ride from Chester, the king would gladly give you all the knights you need. Why come to me?" Leaning in to hear the explanation, Logan searched for any telltale signs of misleadings. 

Feltebeirn had been sitting to Logan's right, on a wooden stool much like what the Egyptians used. He had paid attention to the young guest's story but also observed the tall, dark shadow that hid in the folds of the long curtains at the far end of the room. His eyes picked out the features of the young Prince Remy, who also listened to the story with mild worry. Feltebeirn eyed Remy's expression as the young Prince stared at Danuul's appearance. Turning back to capture the king's attention, the counselour was halted with a silent hand as he spoke, "Sire,--"

"Thank you, your grace." Danuul stepped forward to stand mid-way on the stairs leading up to where Logan sat. "He is a demon with the body of a great, strong man and the hideous large head of a dragon. He can breathe fire for kilometers and his long tongue can squeeze a hefty man in two. My kingdom has been nearly burned to the ground. Many of the men have been killed before grabbing armaments or missing from their beds. The women and children hide in the depths of the palace, hoping for a quick end to the destruction. Please, my lord, I beseech you for help. My king is wounded and has sent me to fetch you for you have a great reputation in battle." Danuul's tone became increasingly distraught as he brought forth the memories of his village and trials.

Feltebeirn shifted his eyes back to the curtain, expecting to see Remy's dark shadow standing there but found only a slight swaying of curtain where Remy had vanished.

Logan was still for a moment, thinking. His eye had caught the movement of the curtain and he had heard the faint even breaths of someone in hiding but hadn't acknowledged it. With a sigh, he addressed his guest, who stood waiting for an answer of help. "It's too late to travel back, tonight. Night'll be here in an hour. My guard will show you to a fresh room where you can relax and recuperate. We'll get a head start before dawn." Logan called a guard from his post at the far end of the room, to Logan's right and gave the orders accordingly. He accepted Danuul's gracious 'thank yous' with a small smile and an invitation to dinner, after the man had time to refresh himself.

Danuul accepted and followed the guard to a long corridor, to Logan's left.

Turning back to his counsel, Logan said flatly, "now, your addings?"

The counsel thought of how to phrase his query without churning the temper of his king. "My lord, this monster sounds dangerous. Yet, this young man had not a bruise or a bandage on him. As counsel-- and as a friend, do be careful with your judgement, sire."

Sensing both Feltebeirn's and Remy's anxieties over the guest's arrival and traumatic story, Logan eased his old friend's worry with a simple smile. "Marcus, I am not that blind or deaf to ride into an invisible enemy. I have heard of a similar beast that preys on men and captures women. If this is merely a rouse, I will deal with it." Logan stood and turned in the direction of Remy's chambers. 

"Sire?"

Pausing, Logan turned back to his friend, "easing our young Prince's mind." Excusing himself, Logan hurried off to find Remy.

 

tbc.


End file.
